


Between Silence and the Sea

by titansatemysoul



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Episode Ignis Verse 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 09:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19926187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titansatemysoul/pseuds/titansatemysoul
Summary: With the return of dawn and its harbinger, Noctis finds his attention split in innumerable pieces and Ignis sent miles away. With Eos in shambles, reunion must take a backseat to reconstruction, until a day to remember their dead offers them an opportunity to retake moments lost.Written for Matsuri: An Ignoct Zine





	Between Silence and the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Often occurring on the final night of Bon, Toro Nagashi (灯籠流し) is a Japanese ceremony in which participants float paper lanterns down a river. It is believed that humans come from the water, and the lanterns represent their bodies returning to the sea, guiding them back to the spirit world.

“Galdin isn’t so far, when you think about it,” Noctis says, watching Ignis pack his things from his room in Lestallum. The Leville is loud, people clattering about on the floors below, and it intrudes on the intimacy the two have yet to find in the weeks after Noct’s arrival. Still reeling from his return to the tangible, Noctis finds himself pulled in all directions. The dawn may have brought salvation, but with it came expectation of stability, the people’s willful ignorance that Eos was still teetering on the edge of collapse. Every issue calls for the King’s undivided attention, stretching him so thin he barely has any at all. And so Ignis stepped in.

“Of course,” Ignis assures him. “Though you may find the terrain altered from how you left it.” He secures the clasp on his luggage, giving one last look to the room that he’s come to call home, the lock clicking behind him as they descend to the lobby. The envoy to Meldacio is idling outside the Coernix station, waiting to take Ignis away. “We’ll see each other.”

But then a month goes by, and then another. Noctis never goes to Meldacio, and Ignis rarely leaves. Even when the phone lines and signal towers are restored, they find little opportunity to talk. Other ears are always present, the exchange of information and reports taking priority to the luxury of personal communication. Many of the expeditions out of Meldacio take Ignis to the Vesperpool, and well out of range of remote communication. The swamp is a hazard, the lake deteriorated into what amounts to a sinkhole, collapsing in on the tomb below and pulling the surrounding land down with it.

Every day, Noctis seems farther and farther away, until one day Ignis realizes it’s almost as if he were never there at all.

-

Though many had urged Noctis to remain in the hub of wartime affairs that was Lestallum, he found himself more useful in Galdin, overseeing the raising of what will one day be a harbor town, providing food and the return of trade until the land can be properly turned for crops and manufacturing. Time and the elements have eroded the once opulent locale, and though it isn’t perfect, it’s home.

The resort now serves as a headquarters, housing the King’s office jammed into what was once the grand suite. Part meeting hall, part communications room and part actual bedroom, Noct can only be thankful for the view, still breathtaking as ever, and about the closest to the beach that he gets most days. The metal cranks dragging in the fishing nets and the accompanied shouting of the fishermen that work them make Noctis yearn for the opportunity to join them rather than sit in the council meeting taking place around him.

“It’s not a bad idea, but…”

“It’s not a very good one,” Ravus interrupts Aranea. “It’s unreasonable. We need food, more habitable land. We need _money_.”

“And we’ll get those,” Prompto says. “This is about respect. We’ve all lost people. How many proper funerals have you attended in the last ten years? No one was remembered the way they should have been.”

“They are owed,” Cor agrees. “I support this.”

“Excuse me,” Ravus sneers. “Does my opinion count for nothing?”

“Not to me,” Aranea shrugs, balancing on the back legs of her seat. Ravus scoffs, arms crossed over his chest.

“What would Luna think?” Noctis asks him, relieved to see his petulance fading at the mention of his sister.

“Well, she’d…” Ravus looks thoughtful, begrudging the truth but also unwilling to refute it. “Luna believed in all the old ways. If none of the dead have been put to rest, perhaps it’s time we let her – let them all – move on.”

“We’re in agreement then,” Noct brings them back together. “Next month at the end of summer, the lantern lighting will return.”

Prompto stays behind as the others file out, clearing off the table while Noctis sinks back into his chair. With Ignis still in Meldacio and Gladio remaining in Lestallum to be with his wife and expand the city, they’re all that’s left. It’s not a bad thing, but it’s not the same.

“You made the right call,” he says definitively, offering Noct a glass of water. “Everyone needs this, more than they realize.”

“You certainly didn’t let the others push you around. The Marshal made a good choice when he picked you,” Noctis shoots him a lopsided smile. “Not a sidekick anymore. Glaives got themselves a good Captain.”

“Not for a long time.” Prompto grins, and they laugh together, enjoying one of the brief moments when it feels like old times.

“You should ask Ignis to come.”

Noctis sighs, eyes flitting to some of the boats leaving the harbor, bound for Altissia to deliver what supplies can be spared.

“I’d have to be able to reach him to do that.”

“I’m sorry,” Prompto offers him another drink, but he declines. “When you came back, I never thought we’d all end up so far apart.”

“I knew things would be different,” Noctis says, slipping into a familiar state of melancholy that often accompanies this particular topic. “But I was hoping it wouldn’t be like this.”

“It won’t be, not forever.” There’s a hand on his shoulder as Prompto takes away their empty glasses. “Existing in Eos isn’t about living anymore, it’s about survival. We all wish we could have hit the pause button for you, but there was nothing anyone could do. You’re here now, Noct. We’re going to put everything back the way it was. All of us, we’ll make it better.”

-

The last week of summer arrives in what seems like an instant and an eternity all at once. All of Eos seems to have been incorporated into the ceremony, both Altissia and the refugees of Niflheim poised to have their own lantern release alongside Lucis. Inland tourists arrive to Galdin in masses, setting up camp along the beach and on the hilltop overlooking the coastline. The residents of seaside community are more than welcoming, opening their homes and providing food and necessities for anyone in need.

Noctis sits atop the cliff overlooking both the hillside and the bay, observing the scene below. Vendors have gathered in spades, the smell of fish and meat rising with the smoke of grills and pit fires. In between, games and side shows offer entertainment to all who pass. The familiar drone of an Imperial dirigible descends on the quay, the wind kicking up the dirt at his feet and turning his attention to the sky. Spotting an anchor, Noctis takes off in a flash of blue, materializing on the deck beside Aranea and Ravus.

“Most of the Niffs,” Ravus shoots her a disparaging look. “Sorry, the refugees from Niflheim, have made it to Caem.”

“We came to see if there are others who wish to observe the lighting with their own,” Ravus declares, “We’ll take anyone left who’d like to go.”

“You got a good thing going here, King,” Aranea says, surveying the land below. “Looks like this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Ain’t that right, Captain?”

“I suppose,” Ravus mutters, disappearing into the control room.

“Hey, look at that,” Aranea points to the road that snakes its way to Galdin, at an envoy of dirty, run down vehicles. “I know those trucks.”

The Meldacio envoy is unmistakable, their beds filled to the brim with supplies and hunters alike, outlines just out of focus. Noct is back on the cliffside in an instant, barely pausing to get his bearings before taking off again, warping down to the docks. He nearly knocks over a stack of crates upon landing, mumbling rushed apologies as he takes off for the parking lot. It’s hot, the smell of scalding oil and sea water thick between the crowds of people that jostle him from side to side.

“Noct!” Prompto is already there, talking to Dave and handing off orders to one of his officers, eagerly motioning for him to join.

“Good to see you Dave,” Noctis says, jogging over to join them.

“Your Majesty,” Dave nods, glancing at Prompto. “The Captain says you’re looking for Ignis. You’ll find him waiting in your office.”

-

Ignis looks the same, but altogether different. His clothes are utilitarian, thick leather crossed over his chest and heavy, battle-tested boots laced up to his calves. There’s an unkempt element to his appearance that Noct isn’t used to, his hair falling in a few places, framing a myriad of scars on his face, with more on his arms to match. He no longer wears his glasses. All of it makes him look harder, and more severe. Still beautiful, though in ways less familiar.

“Ignis,” Noctis exhales, crossing the room in two strides and falling into his waiting arms. They hold each other for a long time, reacquainting themselves with the other’s presence until Ignis cranes down to look for a kiss. Noctis gives it, standing on the balls of his feet, twining his fingers around his neck taking one after another, trying desperately to make up for lost time.

“I missed you,” Ignis whispers against his lips. “I miss you.”

Eventually, they separate, barely, long enough to reach Noct’s bed, which is jammed into the far corner of the room, rarely slept in and covered in books and old clothes. Ignis doesn’t protest when Noctis pushes it all onto the floor, only follows after, climbing into his embrace, finding a perch on his chest and slipping one leg between his.

“I can’t stay very long,” he says, his face still burrowed into Noct’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” Noctis whines, coaxing him up. He relents long enough to place a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, ending, as always, with his mouth.

“We brought food,” Ignis explains. “And medicine. Your infirmary has been asking for months. I need to confirm the inventory before it can be unloaded.”

It’s a perfectly good reason, but Noct resents it just the same. Besides, he’s spent the day shirking responsibilities of his own.

“Camelia has been asking me to call,” Noctis admits. “I’ve been putting it off.”

But Ignis doesn’t go just yet – stays longer than he probably should – before dragging himself out of bed and back down to the beach.

At least for the moment, it’s back to business as usual.  


-

Last minute preparations galvanize the final days leading up to the ceremony. Meal times become precious, the only time Noctis has a chance to breathe at the same time as Ignis. Though they can’t spend it alone, being in each other’s company comes in at close second. Gladio arrives the day before, and that evening the four take a grill and some chairs up to the cliffside, intent on celebration.

“Congratulations,” Prompto exclaims, a few beers in and a bit too loud. They all laugh, and Ignis passes out meat skewers and more cold drinks.

“I still can’t believe you’ll be someone’s dad,” Noctis says, leaning against a cooler, arms resting on his knees.

“You and me both,” Gladio replies, nervously twisting the wedding band on his finger.

“Well I can,” Ignis comes with his own plate, prodding Noctis over to sit beside him. “You were always an attentive big brother. I’m sure Iris would be the first to agree.”

“Alright,” Prompto says, abandoning his food in favor of a fresh beer, holding it high above his head. “What should we toast to?”

“To Lucis,” Ignis laughs, opening a can of Ebony.

“To not dying,” Prompto doesn’t wait to have a swig, taking a bottle cap in the face a second later.

“To my wife,” Gladio says. “And to whatever the hell I’m getting myself into.”

“What about you?”

Noctis looks around at his friends, then to Ignis, who slips his arm behind and around his waist. The world is still broken – they’re all still a little bit broken – and yet, surrounded by family, the man he loves beside him, everything is good.

“To a new life, and everything that comes next.”

-

The ceremony goes off without a hitch, the mood shifting with the sun, gradually drawing people into the surf as the last vestiges of light give way to a peaceful night. Ornate and colorful vessels are released at the start, one small canoe making the rounds, lighting each one ablaze, the warm, flickering flames reflecting off their wake. They burn down slow, until there’s nothing left but crumbling ash and lightening smoke.

Noctis is the first to place his lantern on the water, expertly crafted and painted with intricate strokes made bolder by the flame lit within. Regis receives a send-off fit for a King, and soon the others follow, dozens, then hundreds of lanterns set out to sea. Some let them go from the docks, while others wade into the cool water, up to their waists as they say goodbye to the ones who mattered the most.

“I’ll be back soon,” Ignis says once the release is underway. He leaves Noctis on the deck of the resort, headed for the beach where his subordinates are camped out on the edge of the crowd. Prompto finds his way over soon after, flanked by Cor, both in full dress.

“I’d say you could probably slip away, if you wanted to,” he ventures, gesturing towards the resort. “It’s not really about royalty tonight, y’know.”

“A boat has been left by the ferry dock,” Cor tells him. “The people have said goodbye to their King, but a farewell to your father remains.”

“Not something you should do alone though,” Prompto adds, nodding towards the beach. “Go.”

No one seems to notice when Noctis slips away, finding a small boat just where Cor said it would be. There are two lanterns beneath the seats, covered in cloth, candles and matches alongside them. Noctis stays away from the shore as he rows, set back from the expanse of light still floating in the shallow water until he can see the hunter camp.

Ignis is there, sat on a crate and talking to his comrades, animated and fully engaged. There’s a sadness that comes with the relief that Ignis has fully adjusted to the life he’s been given. Though his worry was once that Ignis would withdraw from the world, he hasn’t, and now Noctis faces reality that a part of Ignis’ life exists that he isn’t a part of. He’s not used to it, and he’s not sure he ever wants to be, juvenile as that may be. When the ocean floor comes into view, Noctis jumps out of the craft, dragging it up on the shore.

“Noctis?” Ignis exclaims, stopping mid-sentence and standing abruptly. There’s a nervous murmur of ‘Your Majesty’ and a few awkward bows before the rest of the camp retreats to their fire pit.

“Come with me,” Noctis says, grabbing Ignis’ hand and pulling him towards the surf. “Please.”

Ignis doesn’t ask questions, briefly looking back to the others before kicking off his shoes. Together they heave the boat off the sand, leaving the beach behind for open water.

“Your parents?” Ignis asks when he finds the lanterns. Noctis nods, turning off the motor. The coastline is only just visible, an array of light spreading over the expanse of the sea.

“Do you remember when we used to go to the river for my mom?” he asks, lighting a candle. Ignis lights the other, carefully setting it on the wooden base.

“Of course.” They pause, silent as they each place one on the surface, gently pushing them out from the wake of their craft.

“It was the one thing my dad never missed.”

The boat rocks when they move away from the edge, and Noctis climbs across to sit beside Ignis.

“Is this everything you expected?” he asks after a while.

“How do you mean?”

“Me coming back,” Noctis says. “Winning, if that’s what you want to call it.”

Ignis is quiet, interlocking their hands and bringing them to his lips.

“No.” He looks up at the clear sky, unmarred by the unnatural darkness of his recent past, stars twinkling as far as the eye can see. “It’s not better, or worse. It’s different. I certainly never thought I’d be away from you this long.”

“I kind of hate it,” Noctis says bluntly, and his candor makes them both laugh out loud. Ignis looks much younger when he laughs, even with the marks and the beginnings of age on his face. There’s no more running, no more fighting. For the first time in a long time, they can simply, _be_. He gasps when Noct takes up his face in his hands, breath warming the tips of cold fingers. They run over the creases in the corners of his eyes and the frown lines in the around his mouth. Ignis flinches when he reaches his scars, lashes visible on his cheeks when he looks down to the floor.

“I like them,” Noctis says, tongue brushing the one that cuts into his lip when they kiss. They don’t notice the light until it’s surrounding them, casting iridescent reflections over the calm waters. The lanterns have reached the edge of the cove, spreading all the way out to Angelgard.

“You’ll come back to me for good one day,” Noctis says. “This is only the beginning.”

**Author's Note:**

> _Written for Matsuri: An Ignoct Zine, where I was fortunate enough to be a contributor!_


End file.
